


The Healing Soldier

by Holy_Mother_Of_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sam, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Dean, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holy_Mother_Of_Winchester/pseuds/Holy_Mother_Of_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean needed to heal. He needed his brother back. Sam knew that, but he also knew that nobody could help Dean but himself. That is, until an unexpected visitor from their past changes the Winchesters lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, hi guys. I'm new at this so just bare with me okay? This here, folks, is my first ever (posted) fan fic, so I would appreciate it very very much if any of you notice any mistakes or anything you would let me know, so I could fix em' up right away! 
> 
> I promise I'll update this fic as quick as I can, but it might not be as swift as I want to, because I'm starting uni soon *grumbles* Anyways, I'll stop talking now and let you read the angsty wincesty fic I have prepared for yall', and don't worry, there'll be smut in later chapters. Promise! 
> 
> PS. This fic features mention of past rape and torture. Also some dark thoughts later on. So if any of these things are a trigger for you. Please don't read, you come before my shitty fic.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Two weeks and a day Sam hasn’t talked to Dean. Two weeks and a _fucking_ day.

Every day of silence cut through Dean like a knife. He didn’t know whether we wanted to cry, rip his hair out or scream. He wanted to shake Sam and make him talk, make him say anything. Beg him to say anything, hold him in his arms and tell him that he was sorry. For Gadreel, for caring whether or not his baby brother died.

But he didn’t. Something was holding him back. And why the fuck was he the one that had to say sorry? Sam was the one that had tried to leave him alone after all. Sam was the one that had clung to Death like a bitch in heat, not him.

Dean rubbed the stubble on his chin, and closed his eyes. Long skinny limbs invaded his mind, shaggy brown hair that Dean longed to run his fingers through, and the mouth- oh that fucking mouth- that Dean wanted to devour with his own. Wanted to bite and lick and suck. He pictured it wrapped around his cock. Saw himself slowly fucking into it, the slick wet heat bringing him to orgasm. His thick fingers wrapping around his brothers hair and screaming his name-

“Sugar?”

Dean opened his eyes immediately, lust making his blood pound. “Yeah?’

It was the blonde bartender, the one with the tight ass and bouncy tits. Probably had a tight pussy too. Dean found himself gazing down at her well endowed chest, and licked his lips, looking up at her through his long eyelashes. “Anything you want, baby?”

The blonde looked startled for a moment, and then angled her body towards Dean, giving the eager man a long look down her tight uniform. “Depends, what would a man like you be able to give a girl like me?” Her voice was drawled sexily, making Dean’s already hard cock twitch in his pants.

“Plenty of things, babe, but how bout’ you tell me first?”

She eyed him for a second and then shook her head. “How about a drink first, honey? You look like you need it.”

Dean bit the witty retort beginning to roll off his tongue, he did want to end up getting a fuck out of tonight after all. So instead we winked at the busty woman and nodded his head in agreement, furiously wishing she would hurry up and sit on his leaking cock. She seemed pleased with his reaction and busied herself with getting a beer bottle out of the fridge. Her long manicured nails quickly twisted off the lid and then plopped it in front of Dean. “Beer alright?”

After Dean assured her that it was fine, she turned back around and bent down, giving Dean the perfect view of her ass. And what a nice ass it was, almost as nice as- _Woah_ so not going there.

Dean wolf whistled quietly, making sure the blonde was the only one able to hear him. Her heavily kohled black eyes glanced at him, and a small smile curved her red painted lips. She slowly straightened up, putting on a good show for Dean. After watching her perform a rather heated swing of her hips, Dean felt his mouth watering. Damn. Instead of slamming his lips down unto hers like he wanted to he opted to take a sip of his drink instead.

“So,” she planted her elbows firmly on the benchtop, and held her face in both of her palms, “what are your plans for tonight?”

Dean shrugged, letting his body gravitate toward hers, he put his drink back on the counter, and leaned on his arms. He felt her fruity breath on his face, and licked his lips unconsciously, watching as her eyes darted down to catch the movement. “I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that.”

The blonde giggled slightly and leaned impossibly closer, “Well,” her fingers begun to play with Dean’s collar, “I have a few ideas.”

“You do huh?” Dean grinned, and slowly closed the distance between them. He licked her bottom lip, asking for entrance, which she gave eagerly. He felt her tongue twist with his, and he grabbed onto her neck, rubbing and tasting.

After a minute, she pulled away, both of them panting. She pressed her lips to his ear, “Meet me in the carpark, ten minutes.”

All Dean could do was nod, he wanted to tell her that he was more than happy to fuck her in a bathroom stall but he stopped himself. Only gentlemen get the ladies after all.

And boy was he getting some tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we have a little piece in Sam's POV. The chapters will get longer in time. As soon as I know where the hell I'm going with this.

Sam wearily opened eyes, and lifted his face off the hard surface he had fallen asleep on, wiping at the drool on his chin.

He rubbed at his eyes and remembered where he was. At the bunker. In the library. Doing research. Without Dean.

Sam sighed and slumped in his chair. He abruptly closed the book he had been reading about succubus’, and stretched.Only after he felt all his bones crack in relief did he get up and begin his search for food.

He grudgingly made his way into the kitchen, hoping he didn’t bump into Dean on the way. He didn’t think he could handle much more of his brothers sulken expression or the hurt barely there glances Dean kept on shooting him when he thought Sam couldn’t see. He hates to admit it, but seeing his big brother looking lost and hopeless does something to Sam, it makes his heart clench unpleasantly and his chest feel too tight.

If there was only one thing that Sam knew in his cursed and damned existence was that Dean was never ever powerless. Dean, the good soldier, Sam’s big brother and protector always knew how to brush the bad things away, to keep it all locked in. Not like Sam. Little Sammy who cried on his first hunt. Who found solace in written text, when the monsters became too big and the night too dark.

Sam knew he was still the chubby kid brother in Dean’s eyes. The little boy he rescued from the fire that had claimed not only their mother’s life, but theirs as well.

 _I’ve got you Sammy_.

After everything that has happened why couldn’t Dean see that he didn’t need protecting anymore? Why couldn’t Dean just push through the ignorant haze he had made a home in and just see? Just see Sam for once, the real Sam. The Sam who had spent more than a hundred years in the darkest pit of hell, being forced to choke on his own blood, and to watch as his skin was ripped from his body one piece at a time.

True, Cas’s angel mojo had worked for a while, Sam could finally sleep without the constant fear of Lucifer clawing at him with his cold and unfeeling hands. But the last few months have been different. Random memories pop into his head at different intervals of the day, Lucifer snarling at him, claiming him with his mouth and teeth. Pushing into him, making Sam’s body burn, and pounding into him relentlessly. Sam could still remember the feeling of blood trickling down his thighs, the scream he had let out in agony and the sharp sound of Lucifer’s laugh. “That’s it, Sammy,” he spat, “Mine, you’re my bitch now, not big bro’s.”

Sometimes the memories would be too much to bear and Sam would just sink down unto his knees and cradle his head and cry. He cried for his lost childhood, he cried for the sweet girl he had once loved, the one with the soft blonde curls and the beautiful eyes. The one Sam would hold as he slid into her, watching as she cried out, loving the way her eyes would flutter shut as he thrust into her slowly. Feeling her, loving her, giving himself to her. The one Sam saw burning on the ceiling, smelling her soft soft skin burn like a pig on a spit.

But most of all Sam cried for his brother’s damaged soul, his gorgeous big brother, the brother he had broke selfishly, the brother Sam could not put together again.

Because Dean needed to do that himself.

 


End file.
